


Whammy

by Ladycat



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Episode: s04e08 Pangs, Sexual Fantasy, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been through it before. This was not new, and yet? New. In painfully humiliating ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whammy

They've been through it before. This was _not new_ , and yet? New. In painfully humiliating ways.

Xander stopped before the stairs to the basement and tried once again not to think.

"You know you make yourself louder when you do that, right?"

Oh, look: a nice rock to kick. Hard. "You're supposed to be L.A.," he gritted out.

Angel shrugged, looking dark and mysterious and really annoying. "I came up to help."

"Yes, and you did such a _wonderful_ job of it," Xander said sourly. He wanted to say more, but really couldn't -- Angel _had_ helped, appearing out of his cloak of night to deal with the outer ring of ghost-Indians so Buffy could take care of the leader inside. It'd been handy having him there, no question. Really handy.

God, not thinking about hands. Not not not.

"Whatever," Xander said, ignoring the look Angel gave him, "just -- come in, and don't make a lot of noise, okay?"

Angel followed obediently enough, given he wasn't any more thrilled about being telepathically bound to Xander than Xander was. Worse, this time they were _physically_ bound, in that they couldn't be more than fifteen or so feet from the other or it started to hurt like hell.

Except. Huh. Xander wasn't getting as much of Angel as Angel was getting of Xander -- say that ten times fast -- but there was _something_ leaking through, if only because Xander was pretty sure he wasn't actually hungry.

But... Angel wasn't actually upset that he was here, crashing not only Buffy's Thanksgiving, but Xander's apartment and chasing Anya out with a bare flickering look.

And what the hell had that been about, anyway?

"Just a demon thing," Angel answered aloud. Like it was perfectly okay for half the conversation to be quiet! "She knew what I meant."

"Okay, so what exactly _did_ you mean, when you said nothing at all to her before she scurried away like you were in a bunny suit. Please dumb yourself down for the non-demon-impaired."

Angel's grin was wry, but very, very genuine. "I was never really sure. I mean, Buffy was -- "

He trailed off, thankfully. Turning his back, Xander concentrated on _juice juice juice_ , pouring himself a cup of it. "Yeah, we know what Buffy is."

"But there was you, too. Hey, don't make a mess."

Xander stared down dumbly at the juice puddled yellow on his hand. Images flashed before his eyes: of Xander naked while Angel ran big hands down his chest, curling around his hips and holding him still and steady as he bent down, lapping at the head of Xander's blood-heavy cock; Xander, on his stomach, back flexing and twisting while he took every inch Angel gave him, both of them gasping, and Xander hotter than ever because he was making Angel _breathe_ ; kissing, long and languid, Angel using his height to make Xander skittish enough to back up, leaning against the wall underneath Angel's bulk. 

A memory that wasn't his, but _felt_ like it: a burn that was both sharp and dull at the same time, something big enough to swallow him whole working inside until Xander went liquid with want, the tightness of his cock and balls at odds with the utter relaxation as he was filled and taken, Angel moving so slowly, shushing Xander every time he moved, while Angel's tongue traced art work onto Xander's back.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Xander lifted his wet hand and drank the juice. Mm, refreshing.

Turning around slowly, he let his gaze linger on Angel, looking him up and down with unmistakable intent. Then he smiled. "You can have the floor," he said with false brightness. "And if you try to whammy me with that again, I'll hit you until you're knocked out."

Angel's expression went dark. "I'm not Spike. I don't have a chip in my head."

"Riiight," Xander said, unconcerned. He knew Angel wouldn't hurt him. Seduce him, maybe, but not hurt him; that was enough. "You keep thinking that, vamp-on-a-leash. You're working with Cordelia now, right?"

After that, things got much quieter.

And Xander had really, really good dreams.


End file.
